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he had assumed each time that the call would not be. As
on the day of the rally when he had uncomprehendingly
heard himself introduced to the crowd, now his body stiffened
in response to the sound of the name before his mind had
accepted the full fact. Then he said, " All right," and swung
himself on to the platform, and followed the man in.

In the blacker, interior darkness, he followed close to his
guide for a few paces. Under his tread he felt the unevenness
of the worn boards, which creaked startlingly. Then they
must have come to a corner, Mr. Munn thought, for to his
left he could see narrow streaks of light apparently outlining
a door,

"Just walk through that door there," the guide com-
manded, " and stand in the middle of the floor."

"All right," Mr. Munn said, and walked to the door,
fumbled at the wooden latch, and entered.

A beam of light lay widening toward him, and he stood in
its centre. It came from some kind of lantern with a reflector
and a screen that threw the other half of the big room into
darkness—to his eyes, pitch darkness. They are over there,
he thought. He stood just inside the door, blinking against
the light,

" Come closer," a voice commanded.

Mr. Munn tried to identify the voice, but could not. He
took three slow steps forward, lifting his head a little so that
the light would not fall directly in his eyes. The ceiling of
the room was very high. He could make out the rafters above
the lighted section. The room had probably been a granary.

" Go to the table," the voice said.

Mr. Munn went to the table, which stood some ten feet
away from the lantern and directly in front of it. He touched
his fingers to the table-top, and waited, On the table a book
lay, a Bible, an ordinary kind of Bible with worn, imitation
leather covers. He had seen many a Bible like that, many a
one, lying on the table in the family room of a farmhouse,
or on the mantelpiece beside a carved wood clock, probably,
and a glass vase full of paper spills, and a spectacle case.